


Ferelden Imports

by Gremkt



Series: The Kirkwall Medic [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alcohol, Anders and Lirene are friends, Chapter 1 is just before Anders meets Hawke, Gen, It’s a little more angsty than chapter 1, Minor description of injury, Past Anders/Karl Thekla, Suicidal Thoughts, chapter 2 is just after tranquility
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21818314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gremkt/pseuds/Gremkt
Summary: Anders has a life outside of Hawke. That includes his friendship with Lirene, who, as it turns out, is a really great friend and support, for Justice as well as Anders. Also featuring discussion of Anders' past and Karl.
Relationships: Anders & Justice, Anders & Lirene, Justice & Lirene
Series: The Kirkwall Medic [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540162
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I originally posted this as chapter 4 of Darktown Days but then as I was working on the follow up chapter, I realised I really liked writing about Anders and Justice and Lirene specifically. I kind of wanted the three of them to stand apart from Anders + the rest of Darktown so I decided to break it of into a separate mini Lirene&Anders&Justice chapter, especially because the two chapters link in a way that the rest don't.
> 
> Suuuper minor canon divergence which I'll discuss more at the end! 
> 
> This is set slightly before the events of Tranquility, maybe a week or two, so Anders hasn't met Hawke yet. It's a lil bit angsty at times :)

“I’m sorry, you ran away how many times?” Lirene’s laugh echoed through the back room of the shop where she lived. Shadows danced on the walls around them as the candle burned lower, light reflecting off their now empty plates. . 

“Seven in total from the Circle.” Anders laughed too, taking another mouthful of his wine. It had been a while since he had consumed any alcohol. Living as a fugitive apostate among refugees hadn’t exactly been a safe living situation and anything that affected his cognitive or physical ability was a risk. It felt good to let down his guard here, in the company of somebody he could almost consider a friend, and take the chance to have a fun night.

He was also pleasantly surprised to discover his bond with Justice didn’t somehow stop him from getting drunk.

_I don’t like this Anders._ Uncertainty radiated from him, filling Anders, but he pushed it aside. This was his body and he was allowed to do something for himself for once. 

“And they didn’t think to put, I don’t know, extra guards watching you? Put you in a room with extra locks?” Lirene frowned at her now empty glass, refilling it from the open bottle on the table. She topped up Anders glass while she was at it and they both took another big gulp.

“Oh no, they did. They locked me in a tower alone for a year once.” 

The memories hurt, but he had learnt over the years that he could let the pain overwhelm him or he could try and joke about it, not letting it win. It wasn’t quite as easy to ignore these days, not with the persistent anger from Justice reminding him that his treatment was unjust and unfair every time he remembered anything about the Circle. 

“Oh Anders.” 

“Didn’t help them in the end, did it?” He laughed again, trying to inject it with enough humor to mask the pain. “I got away anyway, with the Grey Wardens. And then I got away from them too.” He emptied his glass, reaching for the bottle to refill it.

_Enough, Anders_. 

_Let me have some fun for once_. Anders focused on making sure the words stayed inside his head, not spoken out loud. The Ferelden shopkeeper liked him for some reason, and although she had shown that she trusted him and had no interest in sending him to the Gallows, he didn’t want to give her a reason to question his sanity. Even the most ardent of mage supporters would give pause at the idea of hiding an abomination. 

_We are not an abomination._

“So why Kirkwall, the City of Chains?” Lirene asked. “You’re Ferelden, a refugee _and_ an apostate. If they were advertising all the things the authority of Kirkwall hates, you could be the poster boy.”

“I think I’ve seen that poster before. Behold, all of the things we hate the most, it’s Anders. One of the Templars made it.” 

“Just one?” 

“It might have been a team effort.” 

_Anders I don’t like this_.

It was harder to hear or sense the spirit than it usually was, as though the alcohol was masking him in the same way it dulled Anders’ other senses. The wine was well and truly taking effect now. 

“But really, you could have gone… anywhere. Why stop here?” Lirene swirled her wine around her glass. “There’s Antiva, Tevinter, Nevarra. You could have kept going to the Anderfels.” She giggled. “You could have been an Anderfellow.” 

Anders laughed along with Lirene, but he didn’t feel much humor.

“My father was from the Anderfels.” He felt his nose crinkle slightly in distaste as he thought of his father. It was something he tried not to do often. “I don’t think I’ll be going back there soon.”

As he spoke, he realised his words were starting to slur together. Maybe he had drunk more than he realised, or perhaps his lack of drinking recently had made him more susceptible to it. 

Lirene leaned forward, propping her chin against her hand.

“You didn’t answer the question.” 

_You should tell her_. Justice was still faint but the thought was clear. 

“I have... a friend here,” he said finally. “I think.”

“You think?”

“He was in Kirkwall last I heard. I haven’t received news otherwise but it’s not easy getting information from the Gallows. It’s not like I can just walk in and ask them.” He laughed again, still devoid of humor. “Maker I hope he is, all of this will be worth it if I can just…” The words slowly trailed off as he found himself unable to finish. He took a large gulp of wine instead. 

Lirene was an intelligent woman, even when intoxicated. She put connected the dots very quickly. 

“How long has it been since you saw him?” She spoke loudly, a side effect of the alcohol she had been consuming at the same rate as Anders, but her words were gentle. 

“Two years. I didn’t… I didn’t run away while he was there. He made dealing with everything, with all of their Maker cursed rules and punishments and everything tolerable. They said Kirkwall needed new talent but I think they just didn’t want us to be happy. They never let us be happy.”

Tears started to well up in his eyes and he blinked them away, trying not to think about the pain he had felt when they’d told him, lingered, even now, two years later. They hadn’t even let them say goodbye properly, giving them only a public farewell, a meaningful look and a brief touch of their fingers brushing past each other, as they marched Karl out the door, everything he owned slung over his shoulder in a sack. 

There had been others since Karl, on a physical level, but nobody had ever come close to making him feel the way his first love had. 

Recently, he’d found a way to sneak a message inside the Gallows but it was risky. He hadn’t heard back yet and it was hard not to get his hopes up. Sometimes he wondered if it would be worth just handing himself into the Gallows, but without knowing if Karl was there for sure… 

Justice was thinking something at him, but Anders’ brain wasn’t working well enough to process what it was and yet again, he pushed him away.

Lirene reached for his hand, uncoordinated and clumsy, and squeezed it as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. 

“I’m sorry Anders,” she said, her voice soft. 

“Templars are bastards, what else is new?” Pulling his hand away from hers, his other hand grasped at his drink. It spilled and he cursed, watching the dark liquid flow across the table as it threatened to drip over the edge. 

“Oh no!” Lirene stood unsteadily, reaching for something to stop the wine before it reached the floor. 

Reflexes slow, Anders tried to stand, wanting to help. Instead, he stumbled, head fuzzy. The room spun. Too late to do anything to stop him, he felt Justice rising. He tried feebly to contain him but it was no use. 

Blue light lit up the room, crackling across his skin and escaping out of his eyes. Across the room, he heard Lirene gasp, dropping the blanket she had found for the wine. 

“ **No more** ,” the spirit rumbled. “ **You have had enough.** ”

Anders tried to look away, to try and hide the evidence of Justice from the shopkeeper. The action revealed that he was no longer in control of his body. Some part of his mind wondered if this was how Justice felt all the time, but it was overshadowed by the thoughts telling him that they had ruined everything, that Lirene would never trust him again. 

“Anders?” 

“ **I am Justice.** ”

Lirene planted her feet firmly on the ground, facing him. They’d matched their drinks fairly evenly throughout the night so Anders knew she was likely as drunk as he was, but she was doing an admirable job of hiding it. So quickly that Anders hardly noticed it, her eyes flicked towards the main room of the shop and he knew she was calculating how quickly she could get to the dagger she kept there for self defense. Of course, his brain was working slowly - the movement may have been obvious to somebody more sober. 

“What have you done to my friend?” she said, the waver in her voice only apparent because Anders knew her. 

Despite the fear of the current situation, he found himself happy that the woman was willing to challenge what she must assume was a demon for him, a thought only strengthened by her choice of words. Friend. 

“ **He is here. He is not looking after himself.** ” 

Lirene laughed and the spirit regarded her with curiosity. 

“ **You are amused.** ”

“Does he ever look after himself? I’m always reminding him to eat and extinguishing that bloody lantern because he won’t turn people away.”

“ **I have noticed _._** ”

The woman took a tentative step closer to Justice. The erie blue light Justice always brought with him still filled the room, and Anders could see it reflected in her eyes. 

**“** Are you a demon?” 

“ **I am Justice** ,” the spirit repeated. “ **Anders and I will fight for freedom and justice for mages. He cannot fight for justice if he cannot control his body.** ” 

“You don’t like the wine.” Her eyes darted back to the table, wine now soaking into the well worn wood, pooling under the overturned glass that had caused it. At first, Anders thought it was a question but he realised she had phrased it as a statement instead.

Justice didn’t answer but Anders could sense his agreement. He wondered if Justice could sense him too, or if forcing him down to take control had blocked him out of more than moving his body. As he focused on understanding what the spirit was feeling, he realised there was a sense of panic, one that he hadn’t noticed before. 

Justice taken control before but it was always because he’d been angry, so angry that their body couldn't contain him. This felt...different. Justice wasn’t angry as much as he was stressed. That was something to consider, later, when he was less drunk. 

“Well Justice, I promise we won’t drink any more of it tonight.” 

Anders felt himself beginning to regain control over his body as Justice’s worry began to lessen. 

“May I speak to Anders?” 

The blue light faded from the room as Justice sunk back into Anders, pushing his coinhabitant’s control back to the top. He stumbled slightly, the alcohol in his system leaving him unable to compensate for the return of his ability to dictate their movements. 

Lirene raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Am I sticking my neck out for an abomination?” She swayed slightly as she talked, the movement the only indication of her level of sobriety. 

A deep breath escaped Anders lungs.

“He’s a fade spirit. He’s not malevel… maleval… bad like a demon. He wants to help.” Anders moved so that he was sitting down again. Standing was too difficult to focus on right now. The brainpower was needed for talking and thinking. “We met in Amaranthine, with the wardens. We’re going to help the mages.” 

Lirene took her seat at the table beside him. 

“A risky choice, I’m sure. Can he hear us, right now?” 

_Yes._

Anders nodded. 

“He’s almost always aware. I can sense his thoughts and he can sense mine. He thinks things at me and I think them back, almost like we’re talking. He comes out when he’s angry, when I’m too angry to control him or… I guess when I’m drunk.” As if to emphasise the point, he hiccuped. 

“Is he dangerous?” 

“Only to Templar bastards.” Anders laughed, the sound lasting longer than he meant it too. Justice was still not impressed but Anders sensed the agreement. “Oh Maker I’ve drunk too much tonight.” His head felt heavy, eyes fluttered closed. He forced them open again.

_You have_. 

“I can relate.” Lirene rubbed her temple. “To the drinking too much, not the spirit of justice living in my body.”

“I don’t think many people can relate to that.”

Lirene laughed and Anders felt a flutter of hope that maybe, just maybe, he and Justice hadn’t ruined everything. He felt his eyes drift closed again, opening with a start as a blanket hit him in the face. 

“Find a spot on the ground,” Lirene said, giggling, presumably at the shocked look on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Drink some water,” Anders slurred halfheartedly, sliding from his chair onto the floor. The hard, cold stone of the floor was much more comfortable than he expected and he wasn’t sure if the words actually made it out of his mouth. Snuggling into the blanket, he let his eyes finally close as he drifted to sleep. 

* * * 

Anders felt the stiffness in his body as his eyes blearily opened. Not recognising where he and Justice were, he jolted awake fully, hands scrabbling for any kind of weapon. Had the Templars found him?

Pain filled his head as he moved and he winced, blinking into the light that filled the room. Not likely to be the Gallows then. Too much light. 

What happened last night?

_You consumed too much of this alcohol,_ Justice informed him. _Please do not do that again._

_Deal_. _This headache is not worth it._

He searched for memories, trying to piece together what had happened through the lingering fog. Lirene had made dinner, and… he hadn’t made it home, he realised, finally recognising where he was. Everything was a little bit fuzzy and he couldn’t quite remember what else had occurred 

_Did anything happen?_ Hopefully the spirit would remember what he found himself unable to. _Anything bad? Did we...do anything dangerous?_

_I do not like being drunk_. Justice felt indignant. _That was bad. But apart fr_ o _m y_ o _ur irresponsibility we are_ o _k._

“Do you feel as awful as I do?” The voice cut through his splitting headache and he winced. “I’m guessing yes.”

Lirene stood across the room, squinting at him as she rubbed her forehead. Like him, she still wore yesterday’s clothes. She threw him a waterskin, which he almost succeeded in catching.

“Thank you Lirene,” he said. “I appreciate everything you do for me.”

It was true. From the support she gave him, the way she helped protect him and ensured he was safe, to the simple fact that she considered him a friend and gave him company with no expectation of anything more, he appreciated her. 

“You too Anders,” she said with an attempt at a smile. “I think I need to go sleep for another few hours right now though. Abigail can deal with the shop alone. You can stay or go but I will see you later. Much later.”

As Anders left the shop, still filled with gratitude and appreciation for the Ferelden woman, he found himself wondering what the quietest route back to his nice, dark, quiet clinic in Darktown. 

_Next time, I think I’ll drink less,_ he thought to Justice, sensing the spirit’s agreement as they headed home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, sliiiiightly canon divergent because after Tranquility, Anders tells Hawke something along the lines of "I've never told anyone this before, thank you for not running away" and obviously... if this chapter had happened, Lirene knew. So I figured either 1) screw canon, I do what I want or 2) Anders was drunk, he doesn't remember. He specifically asked Justice if anything bad happened and Justice doesn't tell him because he doesn't consider Lirene knowing him a bad thing.
> 
> This idea came about because of two reasons: my headcanons about how alcohol affects them, and the idea for the second part which I won't get into here. I couldn't find anything in canon about Justice and alcohol so I headcanon that alcohol affects Anders, but not Justice. Because it does affect their body, it stresses Justice out and as a result, Anders doesn't drink much!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set just after the Tranquillity quest. Anders has just lost Karl and he's not handling it very well. Lucky he has a bit of a support system looking out for him.
> 
> Checked as much as I can, but there may still be mistakes <3

He’d lost track of how much he had drunk. All he knew was that it wasn’t enough. The pain was still there. This had been the chance to regain on of the only good things he’d ever had in his life and now it was gone. Karl was gone. 

He curled in on himself, wanting to cry tears that wouldn't come, the aching hole in his chest threatening to tear him apart. 

_ They will pay for this _ , Justice told him but Anders shut him out. It was too late. The Templars had already taken everything that mattered from him, time and time again. His family. His safety and security. His freedom. And now, Karl, once again, but this time they had also taken all hope they could ever be reunited. 

He had held himself together for a while, locking his feelings away. If he didn’t think about it, he could pretend it hadn’t happened.

The day after, he had pretended life was normal. Kept himself busy, unable to dwell, pushing himself harder than he probably should. The man - Hawke - and his friends had stopped by and he’d had to be honest about the relationship he had with Justice. It had gone well, all things considered. Hawke hadn’t turned him in at least, and had indicated he may still want Anders’ help in the future, despite everything. 

He’d even managed to calm the rage Justice had sent coursing through their body, amplifying his own feelings. Justice had wanted revenge, vengeance, but once the initial anger had eased, he had accepted they needed a plan. 

And then night had come again and the feelings would not be ignored. 

The memory of the knife sliding through flesh, the warmth of Karl’s blood staining his robes, the weight of his body as it fell. It was all burned into Anders’ brain, and he didn't think he would ever be able to forget it. He didn’t know if he wanted to forget. 

Death was not a stranger. He'd seen a lot of it, he'd caused it, he'd lost people before, but this, this was too much. 

He emptied another bottle of ale, throwing the now useless thing aside. Justice wasn’t happy, he disliked it when Anders’ drank, but right now, Anders couldn’t bring himself to care. The spirit could deal with it. Life wasn’t fair, as the Templars were so determined to prove to him, over and over and over again. 

Anger flared in him again, mingling with the pain and grief. The Templars did this. They had to pay. They had to know what they had done to him, to know the pain they had caused him. To feel it themselves, even just a little. 

_ Anders, be calm,  _ Justice cautioned but Anders pushed him away, stumbling to his feet and towards the armor he had shed earlier. The blood of the man he had loved still stained dark across the front, a grim reminder of what he was trying to forget.

_ Go away _ . Anders couldn’t tell if he was talking or thinking to the spirit as his fingers fumbled with the ties, heavy and uncoordinated. His belt hit the ground, metal buckle clattering against the cobblestones, and he swore loudly. 

_ You are not in control of your body.  _

_ “ _ Didn’t seem to bother your earlier.” That time, Anders was reasonably sure he’d spoken out loud. 

_ Anders you cannot walk. This body is not functioning as it should be, you cannot fight _ . 

_ Neither could Karl _ .

Anders didn’t mean to think that but once the thought was there, it wouldn’t go away. The urge to cry rose again, eyes dry with tears that still wouldn’t come. The ache in his chest felt like it was pulsing in time with his heartbeat, every beat a reminder of the fact that he was still alive when Karl wasn’t. 

_ They will kill you _ . 

_ Maybe that’s better than living like this. Maybe I should just give them what they want. Maybe that’s what I get for daring to live as a mage. _

Giving up on the rest of his armor, he reached for his staff. If he was quick enough, he’d be fine without it. A couple of fireballs could take out a decent number of Templars before they got to him and then the armor wouldn’t matter anyway.

Misjudging the distance between his current position and that of his weapon, he fell, knees hitting the ground as he toppled forward, 

_ Anders _ .

“Go away if you don’t like it.” Some part of him knew the spirit couldn’t but he didn’t care. “Or better yet, you can just have my body. I don’t want it. I’m sure the bastards will help you.”

He sensed something from Justice but his brain was too fuzzy to process what the feeling was. Why was it that the alcohol he had already drunk was able to dull everything but the feelings he wanted to forget? 

_ I cannot let you do this _ . 

“Try and stop me.” There was no humor in the laugh he let out as he pushed himself back up from the ground, bracing himself with his staff to stop another fall. A discarded bottle rattled at his feet and he tried to kick it away. Missing, he stumbled again, only just managing to catch himself. 

Now he recognised the feelings he was getting from Justice, some of them at least. Justice was angry, at the Templars, at the ritual of Tranquility, but also at him.

If he leaned on his staff, it helped him stand with more stability and he took advantage of this as he started to move towards the door. 

_ No.  _

He felt Justice pushing against him, trying t _ o  _ force his way up to the surface. Feebly, he tried to wave him away but it was no use. His skin tingled with the now familiar sensation of Justice emerging before everything went blurry. The last thought that crossed his mind before Justice took over completely was the memory of Karl’s body, surrounded by Templar bodies, blood pooling on the Chantry floor.

* * *

Lirene blotted ink from her pen and returned to the final page of her most recent stock order. It was late, but there was never enough time to get everything done. Once this was finished, at least she’d have one less job to focus on later. 

A yawn escaped as she rubbed her tired eyes. The shop could wait until tomorrow, she decided. 

As she stood, a knock sounded at the door. She sighed. In her work with the refugees, it wasn’t uncommon for visitors to drop by but she hoped it was a quick visit. Aside from the fact that longer, complicated issues tended to be unpleasant and it was frustrating to be limited in her efforts to help, she was tired and the shop didn’t run itself. Not for the first time, she wondered if she needed to hire another assistant. Abigail was a wonderful help but even with two of them, they were routinely run off their feet and that was before the additional time spent helping those in need. 

Grabbing the dagger she kept under the counter for self defense, Lirene headed for the door, concealing the weapon under her skirt as she moved.

“Anders?” she said, surprised to find the mage standing outside as the door swung open. Then she frowned. Something was wrong. His eyes glowed an erie shade of blue and light crackled faintly across his skin, appearing and fading in a constant ebb and flow as he swayed back and forth. “Or… Justice?”

She had met the spirit once before, a few weeks earlier. Since then, both she and Anders had been so busy they hadn’t had the chance to have a proper, sober conversation about the situation but they had assured her that Justice was not a risk and she trusted them. They’d given her no reason to doubt them so far. 

“ **Help him.** ”  Justice’s voice came out of the mage’s mouth. Their body swayed and Lirene stepped forward to catch them as they collapsed. The blue light faded, and she guessed that Justice had relinquished control to Anders. 

“Maker, what happened?” she asked.

The smell of alcohol on their breath answered part of her question - their original meeting had been due to Justice disliking the effect of the wine she and Anders were drinking. But that didn’t explain why they were here, why Justice had brought the mage to her at this hour. 

She helped her friends inside, thankful she hadn’t yet extinguished the candles. Not trusting their stability on a chair, she guided them to sit on the ground. There was always a trunk of blankets in the back of the shop for the stream of visitors in need and she retrieved one to wrap around Anders and Justice. 

“What happened?” she asked again when all of that was done. 

Neither of them answered but  _ something _ had clearly happened. It was written all over Anders’ face. Rather than pushing, she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened slightly at the contact before wordlessly relaxing into the hug, face pressed against her. 

After a few minutes, he pulled away, whispering something that she wasn’t able to hear. 

“Talk to me,” she said, drawing on the same reassuring tone she used when her refugees needed help. Anders was typically one of the people helping others but tonight, he obviously needed it himself.

“Karl,” he whispered again, slightly louder this time. 

They had talked about Karl the first time she had met Justice, about Anders’ relationship with him. He was one of the reasons the man was in Kirkwall, if not the reason. He’d been trying to find information about his former partner. Given the state he was in now, Lirene suspected he had been successful and that it hadn’t been good news. 

“He’s dead,” Anders continued, words catching in his throat. 

“Oh sweetheart.” She pulled him in for another hug. “They killed him?” 

There was a pause, Anders face pressed against her chest. 

“I killed him,” he said and she pulled back to look at him. “I thought we were saving him but it was too late. He was already as good as dead, they made him tranquil. It was just a trap for me.” 

Glancing down at him in the dim light the candles afforded them, she noticed an ugly dark stain across his robes. Her chest tightened with sympathy, imagining the pain he must be in. Tranquillity wasn’t something she knew a huge amount about but she knew many mages feared it just as much, if not more, than death.

“Justice helped him connect with the Fade and brought him back, just for a moment, and he begged. He didn’t want to live like that so I helped him. I killed him.” Lirene could see the tears starting to form in his eyes as he spoke. “He’s gone and it’s my fault.”

“No sweetheart,” she said, pulling him close again. “The Templars took him away. You just helped him have a proper death instead of the non-life he was living.” 

The tears started to fall freely and she held him as he sobbed, one hand stroking his hair. She murmured comforting words to him, knowing that nothing she could say would be able to take away the pain he must be in. The combination of everything, the loss of the hope he must have been holding onto, the shock, the grief that came with losing a friend and the responsibility of being the one that ended his life. It was a lot and she didn’t blame him for drinking. 

After a time, his tears started to ease and his breathing slowed. He leaned more heavily against her and she leaned back to note that he had drifted off to sleep. 

“Justice?” she whispered softly. She was unsure if the spirit would hear her or if he would be asleep along with his host. 

The blue of the magic she was now learning to associate with Justice crackled along Anders’ skin, and his eyes opened, filled with that same blue light. 

“Is that just you or is Anders there too?”

She kept her voice low, not wanting to disturb the man sleeping against her chest.

“ **He is asleep. Sleep is not necessary for me so I am here.** ” 

“Why did  _ you _ bring him here?” She hoped the spirit would understand that she was questioning the way they had arrived and not criticising him for bringing Anders to her for help. 

The light emanating from Justice’s eyes flared.

**“He was trying to go to the Gallows. He thought if he was quick, he could end the lives of a number of Templars before they managed to stop him.”**

Lirene swore softly. No wonder Justice had stepped in. Nobody would realistically take on the Gallows, especially not single handedly and in the condition Anders was in, unless they had a death wish of some kind. 

**“He is less unhappy now. There are still many feelings and most of them are not good, but they are not as overwhelming now. Thank you.”**

“Thank you for bringing him here. Bloody mage is lucky he has you looking out for him.”

There was a pause, Lirene absentmindedly stoking the mage’s soft hair. The light indicated that Justice was still present, but he did not reply and she wondered what he was thinking, or if he was at all. She didn’t quite understand how spirits functioned in general, let alone with the complication of their partnership. It wasn’t until she decided she wasn’t getting a response and opened her mouth to say something new that the spirit finally replied. 

**“The Templars will pay. This cannot continue. But we must make decisions that will benefit and not take needless risks.”**

She didn’t answer him right away. Opinions on the Circles were divided across Thedas but she had never been a fan. Her brother had given her firsthand experience and now, seeing the pain it had caused her friend, knowing that mages across the continent experienced similar risks and fears every day… it made her angry too. 

“We can find some way to help,” she said finally. “But you’re right. Not tonight. Not like this.”

In her arms, Anders shifted slightly, sighing a deep breath as he slept. Justice’s light faded slightly, becoming barely visible as Anders’s eyes began to close once again.

Lirene could already feel the stiffness in her back from the cold, hard floor. Staying here was not reasonable, but she was reluctant to move and disturb the semblance of peace the mage had found. 

“Justice?” she asked again, watching the blue light brighten again. “Do you think you could help move Anders somewhere more comfortable without waking him?” 

It was clumsy, but with the spirit helping keep the man mostly upright and moving, the two of them were able to successfully transfer the sleeping mage to her bed. Once the candles were extinguished, she climbed in beside him, once again holding him close. 

As she drifted to sleep herself, she found herself thinking what she could do to help the mage. Maybe tomorrow, or at some other point in the future, they could think of a plan, but for now, she suspected he just needed somebody to be there for him and let him grieve, and she was more than happy to be that someone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lirene is definitely involved in the mage underground, right? Anders, Justice and Lirene, fighting for the rights of mages everywhere! Lirene and Anders are buddies, but so are Lirene and Justice and they work together to look out for Anders <3 
> 
> I was thinking about how Anders had lost Karl in that quest, on top of everything else he'd been through and leaving the wardens relatively recently, giving up his cat etc. The game doesn't really acknowledge his loss. Neither of them know or trust Hawke & co. yet, so Justice isn't gonna take Anders there and I thought where else would they go? The biggest challenge was working around the conversation with Hawke and deciding where that fit in with the timeline of this but hopefully it worked ok. 
> 
> I think this is the angstiest thing I've ever written tbh, but it turns out writing it was pretty fun even if I did make myself super sad for Anders a couple of times :(


End file.
